


sing me a song of forgetting again

by voodoochild



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-29
Updated: 2010-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-06 19:51:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/voodoochild/pseuds/voodoochild
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post-"Hopeless", Hotch tries to forget Foyet. Dave and Emily lend a hand. Written for Porn Battle IX, for the prompt "silence".</p><p>Warnings: No graphic depiction, but it does explicitly refer to rape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	sing me a song of forgetting again

The whiskey is good, but drinking on the job is just inviting trouble.

They drive to Aaron's apartment (he'd wanted to go to Dave's, he feels safest there, behind Dave's triple-paned glass and deadbolts, but they can't avoid his apartment forever), and Dave and Emily must have picked up on his need for silence, because as soon as they exit the car, neither of them speaks. Just maneuver him up the stairs and into his apartment, reassuring him by the lightest of touches to his wrist, his back, his shoulder, that he's still important to them. He needs it like this - quiet in the way that Foyet wasn't - and they oblige.

The door closes, and Dave presses him to the wall. Not hard, but firm, enough to let Aaron know he won't be able to break the hold without a concentrated effort. He waits for the panic to well up (Foyet had held him down, bruises like cuff marks on his wrists), but it doesn't – all there is is Dave, mouth pressed to his jaw, then his neck, a knee wedged between his legs to rub against Aaron's cock. Emily is there, too, pressed to Dave's side, her hand making soothing back and forth motions up and down Aaron's bicep. She pulls his head down to hers, kisses him slow and deep, shivering when he moans helplessly into her mouth.

She pulls away, and Dave moves his mouth upwards, pressing against Aaron's gentler than they're used to. Dave is all about intent, and usually, when they kiss, it's with the intent that one of them is going to be climaxing pretty soon at the hands or mouth of the other. It's urgent, rough and messy, and this is different. This is Dave's tongue brushing lightly against his, Dave pulling back when Aaron tries to go harder and the look in Dave's eyes that says _"relax, Aaron, we've got you"_.

They strip him slow and sure, touching each bit of revealed skin with measured touches. Emily starts on his shirt buttons, sliding them through the holes carefully and completely unlike her usual "I need this shirt off you yesterday" way. He doesn't argue, just lets them push him through his apartment (past the alarm keypad over the bullet hole in the wall that Dave resets while Emily is working on his shirt) and into his bedroom. Dave turns the light on, and Aaron lets the shirt slide down his arms and pool on the floor.

They're staring, and it's not in the usual, we-like-the-way-you-look way.

This is the first time they've been able to see the scars, he realizes, and goes to switch the light off. Dave stops him, one hand on his chest, the fingers of his other hand interlacing with Aaron's. Dave's little finger just touches the edge of the uppermost wound (number four, across the top of his pectoral muscle to his side), and Aaron squeezes Dave's hand, telling himself that he can do this. The look in Dave's eyes helps, saying _"it doesn't matter, it changes nothing"_, and Emily presses against his back, her hands coming around his waist to rest against the lower scars deliberately. Aaron shudders – the bandages came off last week, but no one's really touched them like this yet – and Emily presses a kiss to his shoulder blade as her fingers spread out to stroke softly against his skin.

Dave lets go of Aaron's hand to bring his arms up, encircling Aaron and Emily, and Aaron feels like he can finally breathe for the first time since entering the apartment. He doesn't know how he could have forgotten this, or wanted to give it up; Emily's soft breath against his ear, Dave's steady heartbeat against his chest, the same feeling of safe and home he hasn't felt since Haley left. His skin itches with the need to be touched, reminded that he is here with them.

As usual, sleeping with profilers has its benefits, and Aaron barely manages to toe off his shoes before Emily has unbuckled his pants and Dave shrugs off his own jacket and dress shirt. His cotton tee is an older one, blue and soft and frayed at the collar, and Aaron recognizes it as the one Emily steals to wear around the house on weekends. Aaron ducks his head, inhales the scent of Dave and stray fragments of Emily's perfume, and slides his hands underneath it to pull it over Dave's head. Emily recognizes his switch in focus – knows Aaron isn't forgetting about her, just reorienting himself with Dave – and takes a step back, letting them have this moment.

Aaron knows it's hard for Dave, trying not to speak, because for Dave, words are everything. He loves them, loves crafting and shaping them to fit a profile or fill a book, and he knows the power of them. Aaron and Emily can sit for hours, not speaking, and feel as comfortable as they've ever felt. Dave can appreciate silence, but sometimes he can't go without trying to fill it. Aaron loves that Dave is doing this for him, though he does admittedly miss the more sexual aspects of Dave's voice. But this time, it has to be as quiet as they can make it, because he doesn't want to be reminded of Foyet. There will be other times, further on down the road when he's healed emotionally, that he'll let Dave do all the talking he wants.

Right now, they're managing.

Dave's hand comes up to touch Aaron's face - _"hey, you all right?"_ \- and Aaron pulls Dave closer to him in response. The first touch of skin against skin is both good (because this is Dave, and he will always enjoy the feel of Dave against him) and not-so-pleasant (Foyet, showing him his scars, purring in his ear while he pressed his chest against Aaron's back and shoved in deeper). He goes tense, and Dave waits it out, a hand to the back of Aaron's neck and remaining as still as he can. Aaron breathes deep, opens his eyes, and looks for his partners.

The rage in Dave and Emily's eyes astonishes him – not rage directed toward him, but the fact that Foyet has broken someone they love. Dave's burns hot, Emily's cold, but they're identical in their message - _"we will destroy him for this"_. Aaron wonders how he ever became worthy of such devotion.

Aaron reaches out a hand for Emily, and she ducks underneath his arm to press tightly to his side. This is better, this reminds him that he is with both of them, and there is nothing of Foyet that taints Emily. He leans down, kisses her, loves the way she unknowingly digs her nails into his shoulder and grabs Dave by the belt before he can pull away. She knows how this works – remembers the night after Matthew Benton's murder and how she trusted them – that it doesn't work unless all three of them are there, wholeheartedly.

And she's really good at anticipating what he needs without him having to ask. Aaron has known Dave a long time, but words are important between them. Safewords, reassuring words, negotiations and acknowledged limits - they're a necessity, because Aaron knows he and Dave are terrible at communication within relationships. There's a reason they have four divorces between them. But Aaron never needs to tell Emily _"no, stop, too much"_ or _"just keep going"_ with anything more than a look or a touch.

Now, she sees the importance of contact, of specificity. Aaron needs her and Dave to touch him only the way they do; anyone (even Foyet) can fuck him, but only Emily knows the way he shudders when she brushes her nails over the small of his back. Only Dave can make him gasp with a simple brushing of lips to the skin above his collar. He should tell them what he needs, but he doesn't have the words. Emily knows what that's like, and Dave understands.

Emily pushes him back onto the bed, and exchanges a look with Dave. Whatever they're deciding, it doesn't take long - Emily's ease with nonverbal understanding doesn't begin and end with him - and she kisses Dave before nudging him to join Aaron. Dave curls up against his back, his thumb stroking a shivering path across Aaron's hipbone, and Emily strips out of her blouse and pants. She knows they're watching her, draws out the unbuttoning and unzipping and laughing at Dave's smirk against Aaron's shoulder when Aaron groans at the sight of the blue bra (it's his favorite, does amazing things to her breasts and once "accidentally" made its way into his go-bag on a case).

She stretches out alongside him, long legs tangling with his, exchanging lazy, deliberate, open-mouthed kisses with Dave over Aaron's shoulder. It isn't long before they're all naked, and Aaron shudders as he feels Dave's fingers easing him open (he didn't even hear the drawer open, but it had to, considering Dave's fingers are slick and warm). Emily tangles her fingers with Aaron's and they reach between her legs, spreading wetness and trailing hot and firm over her clit. His brain feels like it's melting out his ears, the way Dave's pen calluses rub just so against his prostate, the way Emily's making little gasps and dragging his fingers where she wants them.

And then Dave slings an arm around his chest and pushes in, and Emily slides her leg over his hip and pulls him close, and he's surrounded by them, slick and burning and so, so good. There's nothing in his head now but them, Dave's bitten-off groan (he's being so good, quiet the way Aaron needs him to be), Emily's high gasps (she's never really loud, but he loves the way she can't be completely silent). He almost doesn't realize he's begging, his voice scraped raw.

_"Please, please, I need - yes, just like that . . . please, more . . ."_

They give him what he needs.


End file.
